Subject 3
by Ishallcreatestories
Summary: It tells the story of a man with a family, who finds a young tiger name Flora, who has special abilities. Years later, Flora puts her abilities to the test. With the help of family and friends, they together fight against the common enemy, the government. (Takes place in a world of anthro animals and humans and uses two kinds characters cause I am very original)


It's quite a dark spring night in Naperville, Illinois. The air is both calm and cool. Everyone seemed to be doing their day-to-day activities, minding their own business. In Downtown Naperville, you could see people walking on the sidewalk, hanging out with friends and family. They would be walking down the nature riverwalk just down the street, eating at some restaurant, or even shopping for new things.

Over by _McDonalds,_ a man sitting with his group of friends, sharing some laughs and having a good time. His name is Harold Woodard. Somewhere in his mid-thirties, he's fit for someone his size, like Kevin Hart. You can recognize him by his short brown curly hair, dark skin, and his distinct smile, in a way that makes you feel comforted.

Harold has a wife about a year younger than him, but still pretty nonetheless. They have one child together; a daughter, who is in kindergarten. His wife's name is Samantha. Their daughter is known as Diamond. He hoped to have a son some months back. Unfortunately, that never happened due a miscarriage. Hearing this news broke the couple's heart. Harold is still reeling from the loss.

As Harold waved goodbye to his friends, he went towards his car in the local parking lot. He got inside, backed out safely, and made a brief travel back home. Harold always hated driving in the night, with all the blaring lights that went passed by him, making it hard to see. He has to focus on the road to avoid an accident.

Minutes later, he was driving all by himself on the road. He was close to home. Thankfully, there weren't any lights passing by him. He decided to play some classic rock from his phone on auxiliary. The music playing blasted some classic Beatles music.

As he kept driving on, he noticed something moving in the dark. It was far away from the headlights. Slowing down, Harold could see the… thing better. Not sure, he slowed down even more. It looked like a humanoid tiger.

The tiger looked around eight years old and had brown hair. She wore a large white torn shirt that covered the entire body, and is standing barefoot. Judging by her scars, cuts, and the way she's not cleaned up, it's a good chance the young one is escaping from an abusive family. Her eyes seemed utterly hopeless and lost.

He went past her, only to park on the side of the road. As the car stopped, the tiger kept her look on the vehicle. There were a few moments of silence; the only thing there audible is the engine running, eventually turning off.

She took a few deep breaths, and kept looking on. Harold opened the door and got up. "Hey, girl? You lost?" He asked.

She hesitated and took a few steps back, not saying anything.

Harold scratched his head and took a sighted in concern. "You know," He continued calmly. "It's dangerous for someone you're age to be out here."

She stood still as if she saw a stranger trying to lure her in. She then took a few steps further from him.

Harold noticed the fear in her eyes. "It's okay. I'm not here to hurt you. I want to help. I just want to offer you a ride and take you back home." He offered.

"No… no…. Not home. Home is bad." She murmured, loud enough for the stranger to hear.

There was another few quiet moments before Harold asked, "Home? Home is bad? Is that what you're saying?"

She paused for a few seconds and eventually nodding. Harold felt bad, not even feeling bad for her. He felt sorry for the small little girl who is dealing with so much for her age. He took a few moments to think it through. "You know, I can take you back to my house. I was going back there anyways. I can take care of you, provide shelter for one night. We can work the rest from there. Deal?" Offered Harold.

The girl took at least a minute to fully consider his option. She wondered if it was worth taking the risk of going to a stranger's house, not knowing how he'll treat her. She eventually nodded, knowing she has no other options besides standing around hopelessly. She went towards his car and went inside the passenger's seat.

"Great," Harold responded as he got inside, "But before you come aboard, we need to introduce ourselves first. You know, like anyone else does, shaking hands like regular civilians. You go first, what's your name?"

She hesitated by the question. No one ever approached her, not the way anyone did. She looked at him in confusion.

Noticing her reaction, he said, "Alright, I'll start first. My name is Harold Woodard, but you can call me Harold. And you're name is?"

"Flora." She answered.

"Flora? Pretty name. Nice to meet you." Harold replied, as he stuck his hand out.

Flora was even more confused, looking at the hand he pulled out. "It's a handshake, Flora. Both guys and gals pull out their arm, hands touch each other, grip tight, and shake." Harold explained.

Showing more confusion, Harold then said, "Here, let me help you."

He took Flora's arm gently, and she allowed him to setup extending her arm. Harold then extended his arm, gripped her palm. She followed his lead, doing the same thing. They then shook their arms in a gentle manner.

"There you go, you smart cookie." Harold complemented.

Flora paused again and wondered what he meant. "It's a compliment, meaning good things to say about you." He explained.

Perhaps the first time as she remembers, she smiled, very little though. Harold gave a quick smile, but noticed something on her right arm. He turned it around, and noticed a mark on her forearm, saying "3". "Oh no, what did they did to you? What happened?" He asked out of pure concern.

Flora quickly realized what his question was about, and pulled it back almost immediately. Her smile quickly disappeared, and replaced it with fear. "Bad. Bad things." She replied quickly.

Harold, suddenly concerned, stared at her. He remembered what he saw at first glance: torn up clothes, scars on her fur, eyes that carried no hope, and an unclean body. "Let me take you to my home, and you can explain yourself from here." He said.

The tiger nodded. Harold turned on the car, and went onto the street. From there, it lead to Harold's home, like he promised.


End file.
